


Pardon My Music

by Moraith



Series: The Nightmarish Extended Yuki Family [2]
Category: Persona 3, Subarashiki Kono Sekai | The World Ends With You
Genre: Comedy, Crossover, F/M, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Meeting the Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-28
Updated: 2018-12-28
Packaged: 2019-09-29 09:43:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17201183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moraith/pseuds/Moraith
Summary: The Composer/Conductor pair from far-off Iwatodai City pay a visit to Shibuya to check in on their wayward son. He tries to get out of it; unfortunately, sending your put-upon confused employees who don’t even know your name and your painfully adorably oblivious crush to keep your parents off your back works about as well for Joshua as it would work for anyone else. When his mom drags him out into the light of day, he gets coerced into family bonding time. Also, Neku and Hanekoma are there.AU where Joshua’s parents are Makoto Yuki (our beloved protagonist) and Elizabeth from Persona 3. Just roll with it.





	Pardon My Music

**Author's Note:**

> This headcanon started as a joke and at some point over the years it became like 90% serious. Ignore the fact that Makoto is dead and younger than Joshua and their universes are fundamentally incompatible. It's the vibe.

There was something in the air in Shibuya when the Game was running, even when there was no sign of people disappearing from shops as soon as they were out the door or problems miraculously solved by lucky coincidence or hoodie-clad goons lurking at intersections. Neku could always tell. He would cross the invisible intangible barrier that kept the Game’s territory away from the rest of Tokyo and his hair would stand on end like the air was full of static electricity. He got out of Shibuya whenever he noticed it. His own memories of the Game were fond enough, but he wasn’t eager to spend his time wondering if his thoughts were his own or if he was indirectly responsible for some poor sap biting it because of a bad mood or a stray malicious thought. One small blessing was that the Game was contained. If Neku left Shibuya, the static in the air wouldn’t follow him.

So, when the smell of ozone hit him and set his hair on edge in the middle of a school day, Neku knew something had gone _very wrong._

He bolted out of class, too occupied with catastrophic what-ifs to explain where he was going. He stumbled his way past concerned staff members and delinquents skipping out on classes  until he was out of the building and on the streets. A grating metallic whine seeped in at the edges his consciousness, growing louder and harder to ignore the closer he got to the familiar Reaper-controlled part of the city. He didn’t know what he would do when he found the source of the disturbance, beyond a half-formed determination to slug Joshua in the nose for whatever it is he did this time (assuming he even bothered to _show up_ , that bastard), but he was determined to be there to, at the very least, watch the city he loved go down in flames.

Arriving at the scene raised more questions than it answered. Reapers filled the streets in crowds he hadn’t seen the likes of since his third week of the Game. Until he processed that he couldn’t see their wings, he was certain he had somehow died and was back in the UG. But if he wasn’t dead and if he couldn’t see their wings, that meant every Reaper in Shibuya was in the _RG_ ; Neku did not know what that meant, but it couldn’t be anything good. While Neku eyed the Reapers like a cornered mouse trying to tell if the cat has caught wind of its presence, the metallic whine resolved itself into something more comprehensible: music, with an odd discordant melody that set Neku’s teeth on edge. It wasn’t that it sounded _bad_ , but it did sound _wrong_ and _alien_ , like a funeral march played at a baby shower.

Neku cleared his throat, as if he had any kind of authority or wanted _any_ of these people to know he was here. “You guys, uh…” Neku wiped his sweaty palms on his pants and hunched his shoulders as the collective gaze of Shibuya’s Underground settled on him. He didn’t have any particular question in mind, but now that he opened his big mouth and everyone was staring, he couldn’t walk away. “...shouldn’t at least some of you guys be working…?” he ventured.

“None of your business, Player!” Pinky - no, _Uzuki Yashiro_ , some more polite and observant part of Neku’s brain provided - stepped out of the crowd with her partner in tow to look down her nose at Neku. “What’s with your timing, anyway?!”

“You’re not the only visitor today,” Lollipop ( _Kariya_ ) added before Neku had a chance to start interrogating. “Gotta say, I never thought I’d be happy to see you, but by comparison, you’re a breath of fresh air…”

“At least this kid’s not gonna blast us into next week…” Uzuki agreed.

Neku looked through the crowd for any sign of someone who looked like they could blast Uzuki and Kariya into next week. There was the little girl in the pink hoodie, but she was a familiar face, 777 and the band, and hundreds, maybe thousands, of anonymous Reapers in uniform. Nothing special. Not even any bigwigs Neku recognized, though he had no idea if Joshua had brought them back after everything; unlike 777, no one in the RG would miss them (except him and Beat and Shiki, but that was a sobering thought for another time).

Kariya answered Neku’s unspoken question. “Composer and Conductor from another district stopped by. Unscheduled.”

Uzuki balked, the color draining from her face. “ _COMPOSER?!_ What do you _mean_ ‘Composer’?! I knew we had that batty Conductor chick running around, but you’re telling me she brought her _boss?!_ Is this a _coup?_ ”

Neku didn’t even know there _were_ other districts. Uzuki and Kariya kept bickering, but Neku’s head was spinning too much for him to parse it. A series of images flashed across Neku’s mind’s eye: first of Joshua lying dead on the ground and fizzling into static, then of Shibuya warping and twisting into something soulless and unrecognizable, then of himself being consumed by encroaching darkness. With each shifting vision, the discordant music in the back of Neku’s awareness grew louder and harder to ignore. As the darkness consumed his body, the music crowded his thoughts out of his head and left him empty.

Neku became distantly aware of a painful impact. It was happening to him, he knew, but he felt more like an observer, like he was dreaming or his body belonged to someone else. He was blind and deaf, unable to see reality past his own visions of destruction, and he wondered if this is what the world looked like to Joshua every day before he died. That thought, too, felt alien, like it belonged to someone else and Neku was only observing it from outside his own head.

He came to face-down on the street. His face and arms were bloodied from his messy fall onto the jagged pavement and he was alone. The hordes of Reapers were gone; erased, maybe, or maybe they saw whatever just did _that_ to Neku and booked it for safety. The music roared in his head, bypassing his ears to stick directly in his brain at a volume just short of painful.

An unfamiliar new voice, soft and dull and quiet, spoke up from behind Neku. “...My bad.” The voice cut through the deafening music as if it weren’t even there. Neku scrambled upright, the concrete stinging his bleeding palms as he struggled to find purchase and get his legs underneath him. When he turned around, he found himself face-to-face with a slight man with delicate youthful features. The man had silky hair hanging in his face and covering one of his eyes, which made him look more childish than his apparent age. He was short and thin and he stood with a pronounced slouch that only made him look smaller. His clothes were bland, remarkable only in that they were not particularly remarkable, which in and of itself was unusual in Shibuya. The only thing of note on his person was a pair of headphones slung carelessly over his shoulders.

The man followed Neku with his eyes and did not move. He kept his hands tucked in his pockets and his expression remained blank and neutral. Neku’s mind raced through a hundred questions in an instant. Who was this guy? Where did he come from? Where did the Reapers go? What did ‘my bad’ mean? Shouldn’t he be having some kind of reaction to a teenager passing out in front of him and bleeding all over the place? Especially if he did it somehow? What’s with the music? Should Neku be running? Is he going to die again? Is Joshua? Is _Shibuya?_

Before Neku could figure out how to make his mouth form any of those questions, the man spoke again. “Are you the kid Joshua has a crush on?”

_Was_ he the kid Joshua had a crush on?! Neku gaped, his face flushing. That idea became impossible to think around, which meant Neku had even less chance of responding to this situation in a way approaching reasonable. The man in front of him stared unflinchingly at Neku’s face. His expression did not so much as twitch. He did not smile or look concerned or curious or anything at all except _very pretty_ and almost familiar in a way Neku could not place.

The piercing discordant melody drilled into Neku’s head as the awkward uncomfortable silence stretched out. Neku noted as the volume grew painful and his skull felt like it was going to split open that the man in front of him continued staring, expressionless and void of any sign of discomfort. Maybe he couldn’t hear it. Maybe he just didn’t care. Neku pressed his palms to his forehead and squeezed his eyes shut with a miserable groan. His headache was worsening by the second and he couldn’t think clearly enough to get this guy to back off.

Someone cleared their throat. The pounding bass and the shrieking treble stopped, leaving nothing but oppressive silence in their wake. Neku’s headache began to numb and fade away. He tentatively cracked open an eye to identify his savior and nearly burst into tears of relief when it was Mr. H and not another stranger.

Hanekoma approached the mystery man, who had just as little reaction to Hanekoma’s arrival as he had to everything else, and offered him a bright smile and a friendly clap on the shoulder. 

“Hey, there, Mr. Universe! Good to seeya. Let’s get you outta here, yeah? No more puttin’ Phones through the wringer.”

‘Mr. Universe’ glanced down at Hanekoma’s hand on his shoulder. His expression soured slightly, the corners of his mouth tugging down in annoyance. “Joshua’s still hiding.”

“He’ll do that,” Hanekoma agreed easily. “Comes with the job,” he added, a pointed edge creeping into his tone.

‘Mr. Universe’ shrugged Hanekoma’s hand off his shoulder. The irritation fled his expression as soon as he was no longer being touched, his face returning to a blank expressionless slate. “It’s fine; we left Mochizuki at home.”

Hanekoma exhaled a weary sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That don’t count an’ you know it.”

‘Mr. Universe’ shrugged again.

Neku watched the exchange, baffled and grouchier about being left out of the loop than he could justify to himself. He took a deliberate overly-loud breath, half to steel himself, half to draw attention. He leveled the firmest steeliest gaze he had in him at the mystery man. “Hey, Mr. Universe, who are you? What are you doing here?” 

‘Mr. Universe’ stared right back at Neku, unruffled. “...Makoto Yuki,” he said, which, okay, fair enough, but Neku wasn’t really asking for his name.

“Composer of Iwatodai City,” Hanekoma clarified, and thank god someone wasn’t being _Joshua_.

Wait.

Neku narrowed his eyes at Makoto, scanning his features, and now that he looked, the shape of his jaw and the curve of his nose, and… “Don’t tell me… are you…?”

Makoto cocked his head to the side slightly. “...I’m here to visit my kid.”

Neku stared at Makoto’s expressionless face, waiting for the punchline. Makoto was, as ever, content to stare back at him in silence. He gave Mr. H a pleading look, which he returned with a solemn nod of confirmation. Neku faced Makoto again, more bewildered than ever. 

“...Joshua has parents?”

Hanekoma threw his head back and laughed. “‘Course he has parents, Phones! Where’d you think he came from!?”

“Immaculate conception,” Makoto suggested. Neku flushed and babbled a hurried excuse that betrayed in no uncertain terms that that is _exactly_ what he thought. Makoto exhaled a breath through his nose and his lips quirked up almost imperceptibly. It was probably the closest thing to a laugh he could manage. “You’re gonna give him a complex.”

“He’s already got a complex, buddy,” Hanekoma said, shaking his head.

Neku rubbed his face with his hands, his cheeks hot under his palms. Awful. “Never mind,” he groaned. He peeked out from between his fingers. “Mr. H, what was with the music? How did you stop it?”

Hanekoma ruffled Neku’s hair, which did nothing to help him stop blushing. “That’s what happens when a Composer tries to muscle in on another Composer’s territory. You’re lucky I got here when I did or you woulda been toast.”

“My bad,” Makoto said again.

“...which is why we’ve gotta get Mr. Universe over here out of Shibuya ASAP,” Hanekoma concluded.

Makoto looked up at Hanekoma, expressionless as ever. “I’m not leaving until I see Joshua.”

Hanekoma sighed. “I figured. I’d go help his mama get him out of his room, but he wouldn’t be too happy if we ended up with Phones’s blood on our hands.”

Makoto glanced sidelong at Neku, then looked back at Hanekoma. “So, is he the kid Joshua has a crush on?” Makoto tried again.

Hanekoma smirked, but Neku was mercifully spared from the answer to that question by loud triumphant footsteps and all-too-familiar nasally whining.

“You’re committing a war crime, _Mother_ ,” Joshua insisted, attempting to tug his hair out of his mother’s firm grasp as she dragged him bodily down the street.

“Nonsense, Joshua. _Makoto_ is committing a war crime. I am nothing more than a facilitator,” she said. 

She was a pale woman with silvery blonde hair and faintly glowing yellow eyes and a crackling air of unfathomable magical power. She wore an elevator attendant’s uniform, which would have looked absurd in any case, especially topped off with a pillbox hat right out of the 1950s, but went above and beyond by being a uniform deep blue accented with gold. On top of everything else, she spoke and carried herself with a firm and effortless confidence that erased any lingering doubt Neku had about her identity. These were Joshua’s parents. They were not at all what Neku expected, but...

“Fuck the police,” Makoto said, as dull and monotonous as ever. He flashed the pair two peace signs, his expression not moving a millimeter. 

...now that Neku had met them, Joshua’s entire personality seemed a lot less inexplicable.

Joshua’s mother released him and threw herself at Makoto. She wrapped her arms around him and flashed him a toothy grin before leaning in for a kiss on the lips which he accepted eagerly. Right there. In public. In front of Neku and Hanekoma.

Joshua wrinkled his nose and averted his gaze while he straightened out his hair. “And you brought Neku into it, too…” he muttered.

“Good work, Elizabeth,” Makoto murmured. He nuzzled her face, then smiled broadly at Joshua. “Hi, Joshua. I missed you. Is this kid the one you have a crush on?”

Joshua scoffed and rolled his eyes, crossing his arms tightly over his chest, bristling. “Don’t you two have a city to run?”

“Oh, most certainly,” Elizabeth said. She pulled free of Makoto’s embrace and twirled her way over to Joshua. She leaned in toward him with a conspiratorial smirk and gently flicked his nose. “But we have the equally important duty of soothing our lonely aching hearts by paying a visit to our beloved family.”

Joshua’s cheeks flushed an ugly blotchy red that quickly spread to cover his entire face. He brushed waved Elizabeth’s hand away, pouting. “Mother, I don’t think you would get much support from the administration if you told them about this ‘duty.’”

“That is precisely the reason we did not notify our superiors about our outing!” Elizabeth chirped.

“Don’t worry, Josh. I let ‘em know,” Hanekoma cut in. “Your folks’ll be outta here before you know it.”

Joshua hesitated. His face returned to a more normal color as he gave Hanekoma an unreadable look. “Mm.” 

Joshua shifted his weight and looked at each of his parents with an equally airy unreadable expression. Without warning, he grabbed Neku by the wrist and dragged him close. “Neku, these are my parents,” he said. He gestured to Elizabeth with his free hand. “My mother, Elizabeth…” Elizabeth bowed deeply to Neku in acknowledgement. Joshua indicated Makoto, who finally pulled his hand out of his pocket to wave to Neku. “...and my father, Makoto Yuki. Mother, Father, this is Neku Sakuraba.”

Neku bowed awkwardly to Elizabeth and Makoto, the gesture unnatural with Joshua still holding onto his wrist. “Uh… nice to meet you,” he ventured.

“He _was_ the kid,” Makoto mumbled, amused. “Nice.”

“I assure you, the pleasure is all mine,” Elizabeth said. She took another unnecessary sweeping bow. “It is so rare for our Joshua to find someone he gets along with. We are grateful to you for your perseverance in the face of great adversity.”

“Joshua’s a dick,” Makoto translated. He smiled fondly. “But we like him. We’re glad you like him too.”

Joshua’s grip on Neku’s wrist tightened. His face flushed again, the red spreading to his ears and neck despite his best efforts to control himself. Neku watched Joshua’s furious blushing with an amused smile. He tugged his wrist out of Joshua’s grip and laced their fingers together instead. “Joshua, you’re blushing.”

Joshua huffed. He jerked his hand out of Neku’s grip and flexed his fingers in front of his face, lip curled. “ _Your_ hand is bloody.”

Neku looked down at his hands, still red and scraped up from his fall earlier. “Yeah, well… blame your dad for that one.”

“My bad,” Makoto said again.

Elizabeth cleared her throat. “Makoto, might I suggest that you heal Mr. Sakuraba’s injuries? It can serve as penance for our flagrant rule-breaking.” She huffed and shook her head solemnly. “I am certain that our superiors will attempt to impose upon us some foolish and unjust penalty; in the meantime, we ought to make things right with more directness and honesty than our system allows.”

Makoto stared dully at Elizabeth, then relented with a casual shrug. “Sure. Good call.” 

He approached Neku and took Neku’s hands in his own. Makoto’s hands were inhumanly cold. Now that he was this close, Neku could see a pallor to his skin that he’d never seen on any living human being. Unlike every other Reaper Neku had seen, Makoto looked _dead_. 

Makoto ran his cold fingers over Neku’s scrapes. The wounds closed as if by magic, though he supposed it _was_ magic, and left raw sensitive new skin in their place. Neku shuddered, both at the sensation of being manhandled by a corpse and the eerie tingling of the air against fresh skin. Once Makoto was satisfied that Neku wasn’t bleeding, he took a step back and tucked his hands into his pockets once more. 

“I like you,” Makoto said, a gentle smile tugging at his mouth. Although it seemed prompted by nothing at all and the feeling was far from mutual, hearing those words made a comfortable warmth settle in Neku’s chest. He wondered if that, too, was magic. “Take care of Joshua for us.” 

Neku nodded, ducking his head sheepishly. “...I’ll do my best.”

Joshua scoffed. “I don’t need anyone to ‘take care of me,’ Father,” he muttered. “I’m the Composer of Shibuya. Don’t be ridiculous.”

Makoto smiled fondly at Joshua. “Your mom and I still need to take care of each other.”

Elizabeth mirrored Makoto’s fond smile. She took a step toward Joshua and brushed a stray lock of hair out of his face. “Unfortunately, one does not get to transcend the human condition simply by transcending humanity itself. For all that we have strengthened our souls and risen above the bounds of the ordinary world, we are still as fallible and helpless in the face of solitude as ever.”

“We’re also still sexy,” Makoto added helpfully.

“We are also still sexy,” Elizabeth agreed, nodding firmly. She smirked slyly at Neku. “I suggest you take advantage, Mr. Sakuraba, before the opportunity passes you by. Flighty hearts and fickleness run just as true in our family as attractive features.”

Neku snorted. “Sounds about right.”

Joshua glared daggers at his mother, but deflated before his ire came to anything. He stepped toward his parents, his stride unusually tentative. “...I missed you,” he muttered, injecting as much bitterness and scorn into it as possible as his cheeks flamed red again.

Makoto and Elizabeth shared a smile, then each reached out a hand to ruffle Joshua’s hair affectionately. Makoto hugged Joshua tightly, lifting him into the air with far more ease than his slight frame would suggest. Elizabeth scooped up the both of them and lifted them high into the air, all three of them beaming with an unguarded honesty that Neku wouldn’t be able to imagine if he weren’t seeing it with his own two eyes. 

Neku couldn’t keep a smile off his own face at the sight. It was, though he would never dare say it to Joshua’s face, cute. 

Hanekoma led Neku a few steps away to give the three some privacy while they said their goodbyes. A moment later, Joshua tapped Hanekoma on the shoulder with an awkward tentative smile. “Mr. H, I think it’s time to get these invaders out of my city,” he said, his playful teasing lilt tinged with sadness.

Hanekoma nodded, said nothing, and sent Makoto and Elizabeth off with a snap of his fingers. They waved one last goodbye before they were gone without a trace.

Neku watched the empty air where they had been until it was clear they weren’t coming back. “So… your parents are kind of a lot, huh?” he said to Joshua.

Joshua huffed out a breath. “...They’re a handful.”

Neku glanced sidelong at him. “You like ‘em, though.”

“Well, that’s how it is with family…”

“How pissed is your dad gonna be if something happens after I promised to look after you?”

“Oh, he won’t do anything,” Joshua said, waving a hand dismissively in the air. He smirked with teeth. “My mother on the other hand…”

Hanekoma cleared his throat pointedly. “Hey, hate to break up the debrief here, but Josh has a city fulla Reapers on high alert to take care of.” He rapped his knuckles on Joshua’s head. “Hop to it, kiddo. Get outta here.”

Joshua rolled his eyes and exhaled a put-upon sigh. “All right, all right. Back to work for me.” He wiggled his fingers at Neku. “Bye-bye, Neku. Stay in touch.”

“Wouldn’t want your mom to blast me into next week.” 

Neku waved and turned around. If he ran, he might get back to school in time for his last class. When he glanced back over his shoulder, Joshua and Hanekoma were gone, as expected. Neku ducked his head, smiled at his feet, and ran back to civilization.

**Author's Note:**

> Makoto died horribly as a human sacrifice in a cult ritual to stem the overwhelming tide of Noise in Iwatodai City. He was supposed to be erased instantly, taking all the Noise inside him along. Unfortunately, he was too psychic and magical for it to take. The Noise trapped in his soul took humanoid form as Ryoji Mochizuki, who teamed up with Makoto for the Reapers' Game and siphoned so much energy off him it became an independent entity with its own personality. Since the two of them technically share a soul, neither of them can die while the other still lives. Makoto became Composer and has been assassinated several times since, but since no one else knows the details of his and Ryoji's soul bond, none of those assassinations stuck. They insist they're the same person whenever it's convenient even though that is definitely 100% not true.
> 
> Elizabeth was Makoto's Producer. When she learned what happened to him and about the Angels' involvement in the whole incident, including her own, unwitting though it may have been, she defected and tore her own wings off so she could walk among the humans. She doesn't quite get human culture, but she tries her best. Makoto loves her A Lot. Her sister, Margaret, now acts as Producer for Iwatodai. Between Margaret's fierce familial loyalty and Ryoji and Makoto's Weird Thing, no one can oust Makoto and Elizabeth even though they are obnoxious and terrible.
> 
> They had Joshua and he inherited both his parents' obscene magical power and their rampant mental health problems. When he was fifteen, he ran away from home to go to Tokyo and got snookered into killing himself by Hanekoma. It has not been that long since then. Makoto and Elizabeth are sadder and more disappointed in themselves than they let on, but they're doing their best to make sure Joshua's okay. That's the AU. Everything else is the same. Thank you and good night.


End file.
